


Watson

by MadcapWhovian



Category: Doctor Who (2005), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Multi, Potterlock AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-09
Updated: 2014-02-17
Packaged: 2018-01-11 18:26:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1176397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadcapWhovian/pseuds/MadcapWhovian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John and Mary Watson were collateral damage in Moriarty's quest to kill their daughter and his only threat. Sherlock Holmes demanded revenge, to failed in his mission to achieve it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The jist of this should be easily picked up. Enjoy!

**Chapter One: October 1981. London, England.**

"Mary! Take Holly and go! I'll catch up later!" John screamed up the stairs.

"No bloody way!" Mary said, sprinting down the stairs and leaving her daughter in the crib.

"It's him. I'll fight him off. Go, please!" John pleaded with his eyes, and Mary knew what he was really saying. She darted up the steps, two at a time. Holly lay in her crib, still asleep. Mary looked down at the tawny haired toddler and gasped. The front door of 221b had been slammed open. She stifled a sob, not knowing how they would escape this time.

Downstairs, John stood at the foot of the steps. He pushed back his shoulders and stared forward at the man who had been searching for him and his wife for 3 years.

Mary heard the fire of the muggle weapon and stood shocked for a moment. She was alone. Then her instinct kicked in. Protect Holly, if it was the last thing to be done. The creek of steps and the opening of a door. Mary kept her back to the intruder, focusing on her child’s grey eyes.

“Mary, Mary, Mary…” The Irish drawl sent her neck prickling. “It doesn’t have to go like this. Just move out of the way and you walk free. If you don’t, well, you don’t walk again.”

“Kill me instead. Not her. Just not her. She’ll never learn if I don’t show her.” Mary pleaded. Moriarty seemed to falter for a second, his face softening, before he grinned and pulled out his wand.

He sighed. “Avada Kedavra” he murmured. Mary fell to the floor, a crumpled heap of a woman with her eyes still staring. “Time for you now, brat.” Again, the wand was raised, into the face of the infant this time.

Moriarty drew breath.

Outside, a motorbike breaked heavily. The rider cast it aside and hurried into the house. It was then he saw the green light from upstairs, he heard a high scream and felt the house rumble to its foundations. Sherlock was thrown to the floor, his head colliding with the stone tile. He blinked heavily before heaving himself up. He realised he was looking straight into the vacant eyes of his best friend.

John was bleeding from an unknown source, probably a wound that was on the underside of his head. Sherlock felt his breath stop, and fail to start again. He gagged and slumped back onto the ground, looking up to the ceiling as water poured from his open eyes. He was too late. The world was fading to grey as he laid there, his shirt absorbing John’s blood.

He probably would’ve stayed there, if he hadn’t heard the soft cry, which grew louder and more desperate. He rose. The back of his shirt clung coldly to his sweaty skin as he took each step at a time. He opened the door to the left of the landing and walked towards the bedroom.

When he saw Mary lying next to the crib, Sherlock nearly fell against the door. But in the crib, he saw something unbelievable and fantastic: Little Holly standing against the bars wailing. He scooped her up in his arms, feeling her chubby little fingers mix with the curls of his hair as they both cried.

However grateful he was for it, he was unsure why the baby whom Moriarty was so intent on killing was the only one left alive. He began to panic. After collecting together some of Holly’s clothes and toys in a small bag (not putting her down for one second out of fear), Sherlock left the cursed house and went to the street. A small crowd were outside, so he used a concealment charm to avoid their gazes. They were talking far too excitedly for his liking, considering it was the scene of a double murder.

Sherlock ignored the whispers as he turned to his motorbike. He removed the charm and wrapped Holly carefully in his coat as she continued to hold his neck tightly. She obviously knew something was wrong as she was crying, but quietly. Sherlock too was crying, his tears white hot with fury as he came to realise why the best people in his world were dead. He turned on the ignition.

“Sherlock. Give ‘er to me.”  Hagrid spoke softly from behind him.

“Wha-” Sherlock said, not understanding.

“Give Holly to me. Dumbledore will look after ‘er. She can’t stay with you.” Hagrid said, his voice delicate and careful.

“But I’m her godfather.” Sherlock said, disbelieving the fact that even Holly was being taken from him. Hagrid looked like he was going to continue talking, but Sherlock had realised that there was no need to argue. Where he was headed, he couldn’t take Holly with him. Dumbledore could watch over her until he came back. It would be a couple of days. He took her out of his coat.

She was so small, with tufts of tawny curls that blossomed out of her scalp. Her big grey eyes looked up at him, for the millionth time and he couldn’t help but smile. He let her tiny hand wrap around his finger and held on as he leaned in to kiss her forehead.

“Take good care of her, Hagrid, because if you don’t… Well, I don’t know what I’ll do. Take my motorbike, it flies you see. You’ll get there quicker.” Even though he had said it, he still struggled to hand over his goddaughter.

Hagrid looked as tearful as Sherlock felt, but Sherlock had gone as cold as stone. The person responsible would pay. There was no time to talk to Molly. After watching Hagrid and Holly fly out of sight, Sherlock disapporated. 


	2. Chapter Two: August 25th 1993

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 12 years later...

Holly Watson was a very peculiar girl, in every sense. For one thing, she couldn't wait to get back to school to meet her friends Amy and Rory. For another, she enjoyed every moment spent in class ten times more than those spent at home, in Surrey. And finally, she was a witch.

Unlike other witch children, her family disapproved of the magic she possessed. Her aunt Harry and aunt Clara looked down their noses at the whole business and if anyone mentioned Hogwarts in the house, they would get a series of tuts thrown in their direction. Holly, therefore, was very happen when the calendar showed that there was only a week   
left to September first.

Downstairs, her aunts were preparing dinner for aunt Clara's brother, Michael. Michael was a portly middle aged man with angry eyes and bursting red cheeks. He would show up at Holly's aunts house every 6 months and ridicule everything about Holly, much to her displeasure.

Savouring the few moments she had left, Holly turned and looked at herself in the chipped mirror of the bathroom. Her hair was a nest of mousey tangles, falling around her skinny face. From beneath the mess of hair, her grey eyes seemed to shine. Her aunts castaways, today a knitted smock and baggy leggings, seemed to hang from Holly in every way. She sighed.

"This is as good as its going to get." She said, before walking downstairs to the hell that would undoubtably rage riot. She tried her hardest to take the step slowly and quietly, listening in to the conversation that was happening between her aunts and Michael.

"The girls a disgrace. My Lucy is nothing like her. My Lucy has achievements under her belt. My Lucy has a future. You need to straighten your girl out." Holly heard the condescending voice bellow. Her aunts sighed.

"Honestly, we try. The girl is as stubborn as her father." She heard aunt Harry say. "More's the pity. And she has the vulgar attitude of that foul mother."

"Now now Harry, lets not start on vulgar habits. You're no angel." Clara said.

"Oh do shut up." Harry snapped. Holly could imagine the looks that her aunts were sharing. Resigning herself to the horror, she stepped into the kitchen to be greeted by piercing stares.

"What time do you call this? We wanted help with preparing Uncle Michaels breakfast." Clara snapped. Michael smirked in the background as Holly stood her only remaining family's wrath.

Eventually, the conversation had calmed down enough for Michael to join in, starting on the way Holly dressed.

"Honestly, girl, you'd never see my Lucy in clothes like that. Do they not teach you anything at that boarding school? Nothing of use, obviously. My Lucy is competing with the national level at horse riding, I don't suppose we'll see your freak house, will we?" He shot at her. Holly stood it, knowing that there was only a week left of the torture. "Just like your mother. I met her once, what a terrible slut. Your father was in the corner, on the drink with that menace friend of his, you remember Harry the one with the curly hair?"

"Yes. I remember." Harry said through pursed lips.

"A drunk and a criminal. Anyway, your mother came over to me, fluttering her eyelashes, her skirt hitched high, promising to do all the won-"

"SHUT UP!" Holly screamed. "My mother was not a slut! My father was not a drunk! And they didn't hang around with criminals!"

"Oh but they did." Michael sneered. White hot fury ran through Holly's veins as she watched his moustache twitch with amusement. She had rarely been as blindly angry. Something seemed to be happening as she stared out the shark eyes. The bursting red cheeks seemed to be swelling. A button pinged off and smashed the glass front of the cooker. Her aunts watched in horror as Michael ballooned outwards, his already fat body rounding, occupying most of the space in the small kitchen. Aunt Clara screamed.

"Michael!" She said, dithering around him as he sat shocked. "You put him back!" She screamed at Holly who was the one smirking now.

"No. I won't." She said calmly. Aunt Clara screamed in her face before trying to guide her brother away from the ceiling fan.

"Get out! Get out of this house and don't ever think of coming back!" Aunt Harry screamed, her straw coloured curls bouncing in front of her face. Holly nodded, turned calmly to the stair and ascended quietly, completely contrasting with her frantic aunts and dazed uncle.

Upstairs, her facade failed and she growled, kicking the small bed hard and regretting it instantly. She hopped on her good foot, rubbing her bruised toes and trying to figure out where she was going to to. When her toes felt more numb than broken, she got together all of her possessions in a canvas bag and stormed back down stairs. She blasted open the cupboard under the stairs and collected her school trunk and broomstick, before leaving he house and her still screaming aunts.

Out on the street, the August sun was still high in the sky, casting slight evening shadows on the paths of Surrey. She set off, searching for some kind of public transport, she had about £10 and 5 galleons in her coat, money she had had on reserve for the entire summer. She considered jumping on her broomstick and flying to one of her friends houses. But the she realised she didn't know where they lived. Ledworth? It was something like that. She had already broken wizarding law, what was stopping her conjuring up a map? She started rummaging in her pockets as she walked, looking for her wand. Just as she found it, she stumbled on her bags, her right hand slamming into the pavement.

"Oh come on!" She yelled at no one in particular as she gathered her stuff back together. A loud CRACK rang out through the street. She looked up and saw a blue bus speeding down the street towards her. Her eyes widened and she rolled out of the way. As she lay on her back, staring at the sky and contemplating the day she was having, she saw a weedy young man intrude on her eye line.

"Alright, love, what you doing down there then?" The boy said. He must've only been 5 years older than Holly herself. 

"I fell. And you nearly ran me over." She said, indignantly. The young man raised his hands in surrender. 

"Wont me. Aint the driver. That'd be Ern." He said, motioning into the cabin of the bus. A grinning old man sat there, reading a newspaper. "You coming aboard or what?"

"What is it?" Holly asked, looking up at the bus. She then realised it had 3 floors. 

"It's the Night Bus. Emergency transport for a stranded witch or wizard. I am Stan and I will be your conductor for this evening." Stan said proudly. Holly looked up at him from her seat on the pavement. 

"Okay. I get it. I want to go to the Leaky Cauldron. As soon as possible." She said, standing up and brushing the dirty of her smock. 

"Welcome aboard." Stan said, picking up and carrying in her bags for her. She settled for a seat near the front of the ground floor. There were sleeping witches and wizards all around her, in pop up beds that were reminisant of ones you can find in hospitals. Stan settled down in the conductors seat and began reading the same newspaper that Ern had been reading, the Daily Prophet. On the front page, a straggly man with shoulder length dark curls was looking coldly out. Underneath, the headline "Azkaban Escapade!"

"Who's that?" Holly asked, wanting to break the silence that had settled.

"You don't know who that is? Even the muggles know this 'un. Sherlock Holmes. Cleverest wizard of his age." Stan said, closing the paper to look at the front page.

"Why was he in Azkaban?" Holly said. Stan looked at her.

"Do I know you?" He asked, ignoring her question.

"No. Probably not." She said, monotone.

"Yeah, I do. You're that Watson girl. I'm sorry, but I'm in no place to tell you." Stan said, going back to his paper. They sat in silence, except for the sounds of heavy breathing, until they reached the Leaky Cauldron. As Holly stepped out of the bus, she noticed that Stan was looking at her in a strange way. She coughed to let him know that he was caught at it. He carried her bags to the door. Then, he went back to the bus, which flew out of sight almost instantly. Holly sighed, and opened the door to the Leaky Cauldron, thinking back to the events that had happened since the morning. 


End file.
